


My Favourite Day Dream

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: Tony Stark Bingo Mark IV [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Gay Tony Stark, Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Male-Female Friendship, POV Lesbian Character, Past Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Pining, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, past natasha romanov/reader - Freeform, wlw/mlm solidarity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29083332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: Forced to marry as young nobles, both Anthony and the reader had to abandon the people they truly loved for status and reputation. When Sir Steven and his trusty assassin Natasha agree to spend a few nights at their estate, the pair have the chance to see their loves again. However, around Steven, Anthony is a blabbering mess and Natasha is still angry that the reader chose to marry for duty over running away with her. Can they find their happiness or will they waste their second chance?TSBMIV Square: T3 - Arranged Marriage
Relationships: Tony Stark & Reader
Series: Tony Stark Bingo Mark IV [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045506
Kudos: 5





	My Favourite Day Dream

You hovered in the doorway to his royal pain in the arse’s chambers, fondness blossoming in your chest. Lord Anthony’s loose dark curls hung around his unshaven face, softening the otherwise ragged look. His jackets were long since tossed aside and he slept awkwardly across his desk, cheek smushed against the hard surface, in little more than an under shirt and trousers. You didn’t need to check to know that beneath the table, curled around his leg, was his ever faithful hound Jarvis.

Any other day, you might have emptied a pale of cold river water over his head but you recognised that the parchments atop which he was sprawled were important and had no desire to ruin his hard work. Instead, you down set a silver platter of fresh fruits and meats then gently jostled his shoulder.

“What? Huh? I’m awake. I was just resting my eyes.”

“Of course you were, dearest.” You plied a piece of parchment from his face. A dark mark marred his face, where his drool had caused ink to run, and you hoped that it was nothing important as you wiped the worst away. “Eat up. The tailor is on his way up to fit you with a new shirt.”

Anthony picked at the blueberries and groaned. “How many times, I do not need my shirts refitting. They’ve simply shrunk in the heat.”

Carefully sweeping his measuring instruments into a box, more than aware of their cost, you plucked a slice of apple from the tray and smiled sweetly at your husband. “Your pages were more concerned with the burned sleeves. Regardless, this is for another engagement. Sir Steven and his court are passing through the kingdom and I sent an invitation for them to rest a few days here at our residence.”

He shot up at that, suddenly more awake than you had seen him in days. “You did what? What possessed you, woman?”

“Don’t you _woman_ me, Anthony Edward.”

He had the grace to be embarrassed. “Sorry, my sweet. Still, why did you invite Sir Steven to stay here?”

“Aside from common courtesy and manners?”

Anthony glared at you, the sort of stare he usually reserved for the idiot suggestions that your self obsessed advisors gave. The urge to slowly back away and hide overcame you but you knew he would never really hurt you. The worst you’d face was a pale of cold water over your own head, although you were rather keen to avoid that.

Perching on the edge of his desk, you reached for his hand. Anthony accepted immediately, his fingers far too rough for a lord’s. He always had been partial to the metal trades, though. The ground’s blacksmith often spent his days working around your husband, carefully biting his tongue as Anthony used his workshop as if it were his own. (You supposed that technically it was, seeing how Anthony paid for the materials and upkeep, but that was entirely beside the point.)

“I did it for you, Anthony. I know that you have desired him since long before he went to war. Now that he has returned, I thought it prudent that you two should… reacquaint yourselves.”

“We have never been acquainted in the first place,” he huffed disappointedly. That sweet pout grew mischievous as Anthony looked back up into your eyes. “Are you sure that your choice to extend an invitation was not swayed by the reappearance of Lord Steven’s assassin? The beautiful red head? What was her name again?”

“Natasha.” Her name was prayer on your lips, a simple spark to reignite the forbidden fire in your soul. Your mind drifted to your youth together, those warm summer nights beneath the stars where you’d explored all the pleasures a woman’s body could hold, promised yourselves to each other as naïve hearts so often did.

Oblivious to your reminiscing, or perhaps painfully aware of the buried feelings clawing for freedom, Anthony continued cheerily, “How could I have forgotten? When was the last time you heard from her?”

“How long have we been married?”

He shrugged. “Five or six years?”

That sounded about right. You’d been engaged for as long again beforehand and had lived together for much of that time. With little excitement in this part of the kingdom, the years had begun to bleed into one another. It was why you had scribes; they remembered the boring details and dates in your marriage so that neither of you had to.

A sad smile crossed your face as you thought back to your last meeting with Natasha. She hadn’t taken you marrying Anthony well but then, since she’d broken away from the House of Crimson, she had never had to burden herself with the same responsibilities that weighed you down. It was your duty to marry for your family’s status and security regardless of your own desires.

Remembering your husband’s query, you answered softly, “At least that long, then. Last I heard, she had taken up with the pirate queen from the Valkyrie.”

“Well, she’s back on land now,” Anthony said, the implication that you should try to rekindle your relationship clear in his encouraging tone. “Have cook prepare a picnic and take her to the cliffs. You can make wild passionate love beneath the sunset.”

“Tempting,” you admitted. And honestly, it was. There was nothing you’d rather do than snatch Natasha away from Steven’s travelling court and sneak off for a few days into the forests that surrounded your estate. To speak again and explain how you felt, how you had never truly stopped loving her. You’d shout and fight and then take pleasure in the most incredible ways until it was time for her to leave once again – but not without an open invitation to return whenever she wished.

Oh, to dream.

However, you knew that you couldn’t pursue that without having Anthony find his own happiness too. “Alas,” you said. “I fear I cannot leave you alone with Lord Steven. You turn into a babbling mess whenever he shows his fair face and you would only embarrass yourself. No man, not even one as forgiving as Steven, would take you to bed after that.”

Anthony groaned, slumping into his chair. Beneath the desk Jarvis stirred, although the large hound was far too comfortable to even consider moving. Anthony reached down and scratched the top of his head, not so sneakily feeding him fruit from the platter. Honestly, that dog was possibly the most spoiled creature in the kingdom but he kept your husband’s mind level so you would never dream of sending him away.

Utterly dejected, Anthony sighed once more, clawing his fingers through his dark hair. You hadn’t seem his this worked up for many months. “What is the point? Do you know how many times I have attempted to proposition Steven over the years? Thirteen. Thirteen!”

“And on how many of those occasions were you in any way coherent with your desires?”

“All of them,” he huffed. A moment’s consideration, then: “Half. Maybe. At least two! I visited him in his bedchambers wearing nought but a robe and he barely blinked. I must concede that he is uninterested before I make a fool of myself any more.”

You shook your head. This wasn’t your husband, the man you’d grown to care for and respect for his bright intellect and wicked tongue. Lord Anthony of Starkstown never gave up and you simply would not allow him to start now.

“Enough. You certainly won’t attract any attention if you clothe yourself in loathing. By the end of the week, I shall have reconciled with my dear Natasha and you shall finally speak your truth to Steven.” Hand in the air, you silenced his retort. “No. I will not hear of your objections. I have spoken it, therefore it shall be.”

“And what will the household say when they see us chasing others?”

You raised an eyebrow. All that worked the estate knew yours was a political marriage, that there had never been anything more than friendship between you. They did not care one way or another. His anxieties stemmed, you were certain, from his father’s outright denial of Anthony’s true heart. Lord Howard had never been able to wrap his mind around the possibility of anything other than a man and woman lying together. Your father had been the same. It was why your marriage worked so well. Neither you not Anthony had to lie, never had to force yourselves into positions and romances you’d rather avoid.

You rose to your feet, smoothed out your skirts, then squeezed his shoulder. “Howard is gone, Anthony. Do not allow his shadow to cloud your possibilities. And as for the staff, I have no doubt they will celebrate that we are both finally getting the loving we deserve. Besides, it will hardly be the first time either of us has indulged in a little fun with passing nobles. They expect nothing less. Now, smarten up, dear. The tailor’s here.”

Right on cue, a knock sounded on the door. As you passed him on your way out, you suggested to the tailor that Anthony’s new robe match the colours of Steven’s coat of arms. If that didn’t capture the good Steven’s attention then you were in for a tougher challenge than you realised. Still, you were nothing if not a good wife and you’d see the men together before we weekend was out if it killed you.


End file.
